Right, then. Tagged in a project with some pretty amazing writers. Let's hope I don't let the team down.
Here's the lowdown: This is basically a series of flash stories. I was tagged by the wonderful Michael Solender, and given the list of previous posts so I could continue this on. I will add to the story, then tag more people for them to keep it moving. It is a wonderful concept and a lot of fun.
And then here:
Lost In The BoZone
David Barber's Fiction World
Writing The Hard Way
Not From Here, Are You?
And here is my addition to this story:
Detective Gary Houston was dining with his mother at Erica's immediately across the road from the Poof Palace Spa and Beautification centre. He had been listening to her drone on and on for the last forty-five minutes, occassionally focusing on her words, but generally ignoring her whilst picking at his lunch.
His mother's voice penetrated his thoughts.
"Are we expecting a storm today, Gary?"
"Not of the wet variety, Mother, but I feel a shitstorm coming."
His mother looked at him disapprovingly. "You know I don't like it when you use that language." She glanced out the window, at the rain-laden clouds. "I think it will rain, dear."
"Not until Christmas Eve, Mother." Gary sighed, knowing that the joke would be wasted on her. He stood, needing to use the rest rooms when he caught sight of Blanco exiting the building across the road. He stood motionless, stunned by the hue of the man's skin. He quickly excused himself from the table and made his way outside.
"Blanco, over here. What in the fuc..."
"No time for that now. Houston, we have a problem. Big Bopper is on the loose again. Damn I hate Christmas."
A stern look came over Gary's face. "You know what we have to do, right?"
"I will ring him now, Houston. If this fails, we are in deep shit."
Ok, now I will tag the following people: